playing the game
by irrevocablybroken
Summary: (thor 2 spoilers) Loki could imagine how hard it had been for Thor to leave his apparently dead body in the wasteland. After all, he had done an exquisite job at pulling on his brother's heartstrings.


_**A/N:**__ So I saw Thor 2 again today and I tried to pay more attention (through my tears) to Loki's fake death scene and how he later impersonated the guard and all. I thought it would be fun and painful to imagine what happened after Thor left the body and to show the terrible, power hungry side of Loki we all chose to ignore… thus, this one shot came to be. Enjoy :)_

_who is the betrayer?  
who's the killer in the crowd?  
the one who creeps in corridors  
and doesn't make a sound_

Loki could imagine how hard it had been for Thor to leave his apparently dead body in the wasteland. After all, he had done an exquisite and quite convincing job at pulling on his brother's heartstrings. As planned, Thor thought him dead. Better yet, upon his victory and return to Asgard he would undoubtedly spread the word of Loki's selfless sacrifice for the golden prince and for all the realms.

He was not surprised his plan had worked. Through its many complications, he'd paid the most detail to keeping his relationship with Thor authentic. Playing the rehabilitated criminal would do no good. The only option was to act as arrogant and pompous as ever- which, looking back, Loki had done with the utmost precision. Toying with emotions, manipulating words, getting his way- that was all second nature to him.

In the end, it paid off. The oaf was gone, along with his useless mortal, presumably avenging his death, as Loki let the illusion fade away. Yes, he was injured- there was no doubt Kurse had left a gaping wound in his chest- but Loki easily made use of intricately designed spells to heal himself. Spells his mother had taught him.

Loki winced at the unwelcome thoughts._ She's not my mother._

This was no time for sentiment. There was never a good time for sentiment. He could not waste his time thinking back on what could have been. He'd been a fool, all these years, unable to grasp the fact he didn't belong, that he wasn't meant to be a prince.

After all, he was meant to be a king.

He was speaking nothing but the truth when he attacked Thor. He wanted Odin dead at his feet. The betrayal may have been a ploy, but the venom in his words was not. The infinite hatred towards the Allfather that coursed through his veins was nothing if not genuine.

xxx

Loki stumbled to his feet, a weak hiss of pain escaping his lips. The wound was sufficiently healed, the illusion of death gone, and yet there were lingering remnants of the blade's poison in his body. He grit his teeth together in an attempt to compose himself. He was not weak. This was nothing compared to what he had gone through.

He carefully inspected the surroundings before summoning what was left of his magic, willing himself to morph into the image of an Asgardian guard- a form which he had assumed countless times before, in order to travel the grounds unnoticed, to listen in on things he should had not been allowed to hear as himself.

The illusion flickered, sending a wave of irrational anger through Loki's body. A scowl made its way onto his lips, as he fought the remainder of the poison, stabilizing his new form.

The cold wind whistled around him, as he took the first cautious steps. Loki began heading towards the ship they'd abandoned before the confrontation with Malekith. He had unfinished business to settle.

He had a throne to claim.

xxx

"Forgive me, my liege," the guard began, "I return from the Dark World with news."

Odin visibly stiffened, turning around ever so slightly to face the visitor.

"Thor?"

Of course he would ask about that idiot first. Loki forced his emotions down as he shook his head in an attempt to look defeated.

"There's no sign of Thor. Or the weapon," he added, taking a hesitant breath before continuing. Oh, he had the Allfather's attention now.

"We found a body," he announced, barely suppressing the smirk that was fighting its way onto his lips. This was the very definition of fun in Loki's book. He bowed his head as he noticed a shift in Odin's posture, attempting to look solemn and resigned- just another part of the game he was playing.

Realization seeped into the older man's eyes.

"Loki," he muttered, his face an unreadable mask. Unreadable: here meaning relieved. Loki was certain his not-father would have been thrilled to see him gone.

He slowly met Odin's gaze, his eyes cold and equally emotionless, if not for a spark of anticipation.

The Allfather took a cautious step down from his golden throne, observing the man who he had believed was a guard. Until, that was, he put all the pieces together. What guard, in his right mind, would travel to an unknown, dangerous world in search of mere news?

There was no doubt he could see through Loki's carefully constructed illusion. There was no doubt Loki wanted him to. He'd had to disguise himself for the sole purpose of entering Asgard unnoticed, for gaining an individual audience with the Allfather.

What good was all of that to him, now?

Never allowing his eyes to drop from Odin's, Loki willed the disguise to fade away, returning to his own form.

"Hello, father."


End file.
